


Broken

by YaminoBossBitch



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Ableism, Angst, Chronic Illness, Denial, F/M, Hospitals, Hurt with attempted comfort, Medical Tests, Memory Loss, Sad, Sad Ending, Self-Loathing, Vegebul, Vomiting, ableist slurs, can be read as KakaVege if you squint, death mention, disabling illness, graphic descriptions of pain, internalized ableism, medical gaslighting, sex mention, suicidal ideations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:28:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25472398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YaminoBossBitch/pseuds/YaminoBossBitch
Summary: Vegeta develops mysterious symptoms, and they begin to disrupt every aspect of his life. It seems as though the more he tries to overcome them, the worse they get. An illness with no known cause, no treatment, no cure, and that cannot be overcome through sheer force of will. Will Vegeta find the answers he needs? How will he cope with this disruption of his life?
Relationships: Bulma Briefs/Vegeta, Son Goku & Vegeta (Dragon Ball)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 31
Collections: Angst for Kakabeji





	1. Broken

**Author's Note:**

> CW: ableism, internalized ableism, ableist slurs, self-loathing, disabling illness, graphic descriptions of pain, vomiting, memory loss, death mention, medical gaslighting, hospitals, medical tests, denial, suicidal ideations, let me know if you need anything else tagged 
> 
> So...this is different from what I normally like to write. Most of my stories have happy or at least hopeful endings, bleakness isn’t usually what I’m about. But in this case, I’m basing this on my own experiences with a chronic illness and the reality is often bleak and can seem hopeless. So that’s what I wrote. It was helpful to get these feelings out.

Vegeta was among the strongest men in the universe. This was not something he took in stride, it was important to him. It was a major part of his identity. That along with his drive to become stronger, to surpass Kakarot, and everyone else. He wanted to be the strongest in the universe.

At first, he ignored his energy seeming to shrink. He trained anyway despite being totally exhausted. It was just an off day, that’s what he told himself. The next day, he was twice as tired as before. He trained again but couldn’t keep up at his usual pace no matter how hard he tried. He kept going, each day waking up more exhausted. He began to experience other strange symptoms, too. His whole body hurt, not the usual sore muscles that come with rigorous training but something else entirely. It felt as if he had been beaten severely. His heart would race violently after very little physical activity, so hard that his chest would begin to hurt and he would start to feel dizzy. Sometimes he would fall to the ground he was so dizzy, his heart feeling as if it would explode out of his chest.

“Honey, maybe you’re just sick.” Bulma said as she offered to help him off the ground. He rejected her assistance, stubbornly climbing back upright without help. He clung to the kitchen table, clumsily trying to prevent himself from falling again.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” he snapped. Vegeta hardly ever got sick, and when he did, he pushed through it and continued training anyway.

“Just try to rest until you feel better. At this rate, it couldn’t hurt anything, could it? I mean, you’re having so much trouble training.” She said. Vegeta huffed. Maybe she had a point.

The first day of resting was fine. Just boring. In fact, until he stood up to get food, he couldn’t tell that anything was wrong. The second he stood up, however, his heart began to race and he was extremely dizzy. Even focusing his ki enough to hover instead of walk was very taxing, and by the time he made it back to his bed with food, he was exhausted from the effort.

Within a few days of resting, more strange symptoms began to appear. He would have pains, not like the full-body soreness he had all the time now, but intense pains. As if he was being stabbed, and the pain would shoot through his body. These pains would be so bad that he would sometimes scream out loud from them. On top of that, he would have bouts of severe nausea, unable to run to the restroom in time. He and Bulma had taken to keeping bags by the bedside just in case.

His mind was deteriorating, too. At first it was small things.

“Bulma will you bring me a...a...” he frowned. He knew what he wanted. It was something he had all the time. He thought very hard but the word wouldn’t come to his mind. “A _thing_ of water?”

“A...glass?” She said.

Oh right. Of course. A glass. He knew that. Be had always known that word. How could he forget such a simple word?

Vegeta tried to brush it off, just a slip of the mind, he had been tired and not feeling well so of course a small mistake like that would happen.

But it got worse.

He would have moments of extreme confusion. Trying to form words and sentences felt like trudging through thick, waist-deep mud. He would forget what he was talking about mid-sentence. He would forget words, simple words. Sometimes he would say the wrong word for something and not even notice. He would forget things that happened.

“Can you get me the remote?” He asked. Bulma gave him a strange look.

“I just did.” She said slowly.

He looked down. The remote control was in his hand. It felt like something out of a bizarre dream.

“Hm.” He said. He tried to play it off, but Bulma was too smart for that.

“Did you just forget that conversation took place?” She asked.

“No.” He said, although it was an obvious lie.

“Vegeta,” she placed a hand on his face. “This is serious. I’m getting really worried about you. This seems like more than just normal sickness. Maybe we should take you to a doctor.”

Vegeta turned away. He had been getting worried, too. He was getting worse, not better. He could barely get out of bed anymore and needed way more help from his family than his pride could take. He had lost count of the number of times somebody found him on the floor because he refused to ask for help with such a simple task as getting himself food or water. Then having to live through the humiliation of being picked up off the ground by his son, who was half his size, and being carried back to his room like an invalid.

But, a doctor?

“Isn’t that a little extreme?” He said.

“Not really. I mean, I know most human doctors don’t really know what to do with you, but it’s gotta be better than nothing.” She said.

Vegeta refused. Human doctors were basically useless. They didn’t understand that despite the fact that he looked human, he was not and his body worked a bit differently. And besides, Vegeta was sure he would get better eventually.

The migraines started next, pain so intense he couldn’t think. Sometimes sounds, totally normal sounds would cause overwhelming pain in his body. His children playing. His wife blowing something up in her lab. Even colors on TV or the sun shining in through the window caused him immense pain, his heart would react, his brain would become confused.

He couldn’t walk at all without support. He couldn’t stand through his showers and in fact couldn’t go through the pain of showering most of the time. Vegeta, the prince of Saiyans, once a brilliant military strategist, now often had trouble speaking in full sentences. Once a proud warrior now often felt immense pain in his hands and arms for days if he lifted a full glass of water. Once one of the strongest beings in the universe, now couldn’t make it down the stairs.

_Thud!_

Vegeta staggered back and fell to the floor. He looked up in confusion. That door was open. He swore it was open. He saw it open. But it was closed. He was the only one here. No one else could have closed it. But he had seen it open. His mind struggled to reconcile the fact that he had definitely been certain the door was open when he tried to walk through it with the fact that it was definitely closed and he had walked into it.

It was sinking in now, somehow the impact with the door had really knocked it into his head. This was real. He was really, really sick. Something was wrong. This wasn’t something that was going to go away. He was getting worse. Nothing was getting better.

What if he was like this forever? What if he kept getting worse? What if he was dying? He had already lost so much strength, his muscles shrinking and losing definition. He didn’t recognize himself in the mirror anymore, this pale, trembling, sickly, filthy thing was not Vegeta. Yet it was. This was the body he inhabited, whether he wanted to or not.

He was no longer one of the strongest beings in the universe. He was one of the weakest.

He felt sick.

“Vegeta? Honey,” Bulma had found him on the floor. “Come on,” she went to help him up, but his knees wouldn’t hold his weight. She had to drag him back to the bed in the most undignified way he could imagine. Once he was back in bed, she handed him something. A capsule. “I made it for you. I know it might not be ideal but I think it would help you a lot. Plus you can even take it into the shower if you need to.”

He looked at the capsule. He clicked the button and tossed it weakly onto the floor. In a puff of air, it appeared. A small hoverchair. Much less cumbersome than the one Frieza used to use, but it had a seat and arm rests and a cupholder. Vegeta stared at it for a time. He knew what it was even before he had opened the capsule. Still, something lurched in his stomach. He turned to his wife.

“Am I crippled?” There was no anger in his voice. It was too soft for that. It was fear, and it was sadness. Because he knew the answer.

“Vegeta...” Bulma’s face fell. “I-I don’t know, honey. I just don’t want to see you struggle so much anymore. I’m worried about you.”

There were tears stinging her eyes. Before he knew it, there were tears stinging his eyes, too.

“This-this isn’t right. This isn’t fair! I-I’m strong! I’m supposed to be the one protecting you, taking care of you! I’m supposed to be getting stronger, beating Kakarot, I-I’m not supposed to be a cripple, I can’t—“ he couldn’t breathe. He was drowning. Pain. Dizziness. Confusion.

He was in Bulma’s arms and he could hear her crying.

“I know. Vegeta, I’m so sorry. I never wanted this for you, I can’t even imagine what you must be going through. I’m so sorry.”

Vegeta was shaking. This didn’t seem real. Just a few months ago he was powerful. He could destroy worlds if he wanted to. Now, nothing. He couldn’t lift a plate full of food some days.

“Maybe—“ He said tremulously. “The doctor isn’t such a bad idea.”

Vegeta could feel other people’s eyes on him. On his chair. They must have thought he didn’t look sick. He didn’t look like he needed a special chair. Bulma didn’t even seem to notice the stares and whispers. She held his hand and flipped through a magazine until their name was called.

When the doctor asked what had been going on, Vegeta and Bulma worked together to explain everything. The more symptoms they listed, the more blank the doctor’s face became. When they were done, it was clear the doctor had no idea what it could possibly be.

He ordered tests. Blood work. CAT scan. EKG. More things, Vegeta didn’t know what half of them were. Over the course of the next several weeks Vegeta painstakingly forced himself out of bed and into his chair, struggling through painful and debilitating symptoms to make it to the hospital for tests. It hurt more each time, even just sitting upright now was enough to set his heart off. Sometimes he would be slumped over in his chair, barely able to comprehend what the doctors were telling him.

The tests all came back clean. Every single one. The doctor read this as if it was good news. It didn’t seem like good news to Vegeta. That just meant he was sick and they had no idea why.

“I don’t understand, doctor. If none of the tests told us anything then what could possibly be causing this?” Bulma asked.

The doctor shrugged.

“Sometimes things like depression and anxiety can cause fatigue and body pain.”

Depression? Anxiety?

Vegeta stared.

“You think anxiety is causing all this?” He asked. The doctor shrugged again. It was somehow even more callous the second time.

“It’s possible. I can refer you to a psychiatrist.”

Vegeta did not take the referral. He went home feeling utterly defeated.

Depression. Anxiety. The doctor genuinely believed that this was all in his head. His imagination. His mind was creating this pain.

It didn’t make any sense. Vegeta had experienced great pains in his life, great emotional distress, but nothing that could possibly justify his whole body shutting down. But all the tests came back clean. So what else could it be?

Vegeta wracked his brain to remember if he had ever heard of any Saiyan diseases that matched this. He was just a boy when his planet was lost. He didn’t know anything about medicine. He only saw a doctor a couple times in his life. Saiyans were hardy. Healthy. It took a lot to bring a Saiyan down. He didn’t know anything about disease.

Maybe the doctor was right. It was all in his head.

Bulma was at the lab. Trunks was playing with Goten. Bulla was being watched by Bulma’s parents.

Vegeta pulled himself out of bed. He left his chair in the capsule by his bedside where it stayed. He forced himself to get dressed in his training clothes that had been sitting in the back of his dresser for months now. He fell multiple times. He ignored it and forced himself back up through screaming pain. His heart was beating so erratically it felt like his chest would break.

‘ _It’s just anxiety_.’ He told himself. It didn’t feel anything like anxiety. Vegeta had never talked about the anxiety he experienced in his life, it was something he had learned to deal with quietly. But it didn’t feel like this. This felt like his body was shutting down. Like his brain was turning to mush. But the doctor said it was anxiety. And there was no other explanation.

He struggled out of the house. He flew close to the ground, hovering slowly until his energy gave out and he collapsed onto the ground, where he would stay until he gathered the energy to start moving again. Soon he was crawling along the ground. Still moving. His entire body screaming in agony. His vision going black. His muscles spasming and twitching out of his control.

‘ _It’s just anxiety._ ’

It must have been hours that he had been trying to get where he was going. He was leaned over a rock and vomiting when Goku found him.

Goku crouched by his side and patted his back as he finished.

“Vegeta, Bulma called me in a panic not knowing where you went. You’re sick, you should be resting.” He said. Vegeta tremulously started to push himself up.

“I-I’m not sick—“ he said, barely able to breathe. Pain wrapped around his entire being, so bad he couldn’t think. He forced himself to stand even though his body was visibly convulsing with effort. “I just have anxiety.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Goku said, his face was worried. “You really should be at home, Vegeta. What are you doing out here?”

“I’m coming—to—fight you—“ Vegeta gasped. Goku only looked more confused. Vegeta let out a cry and threw a punch with everything he had. He fell to the ground, the agony overwhelmed him and before he knew what was happening, he was screaming uncontrollably and writhing in the dirt. Tears rolled down his face. Suddenly he was wrapped up in Goku’s arms, sobbing and screaming into his shoulder as the pain tore him apart.

After a time, what felt like hours but judging by the fact that the sun hadn’t gone down yet, was not, the pain subsided enough that he stopped screaming. He was trembling violently, tears still falling from his eyes.

“Vegeta, why?” Goku asked softly.

“B-because... this can’t be happening...” Vegeta breathed. He could barely form words. Everything felt a million miles away. He could barely remember how he got here. “I’m... supposed to be... the strongest... supposed to... beat you...”

“That stuff doesn’t matter now.”

“Of course it matters!” Vegeta snapped. The effort it took to do so sent blinding pain through his head and he curled into Goku’s chest again, clenching his teeth to keep from crying out. “It will... always... matter...”

“But things are different now. You’re sick. You didn’t used to be. Your priorities have to change, too.”

“Would it... be... so easy... for you?” Vegeta asked. “Could... you... give up... fighting... like that?”

Goku was silent for a moment.

“No. I guess that would be pretty hard.”

“Kakarot, I... I don’t... want to... live like this...” Vegeta said. It was something he had been thinking for a while now. It felt simultaneously relieving and hideous to let it leave his mouth now.

“Don’t say that! We need you here.”

“I’m... worthless...”

“No, Vegeta! Listen to me! I don’t know what’s wrong with you and I don’t care. You’re still my friend even if you can’t fight or walk or anything! I want you here, even if it means I never get to spar with you again, even if I have to take care of you for the rest of your life. Bulma feels the same way, and so do your children. Vegeta, we care about you. You don’t have to be the strongest to matter.” Goku said.

“I don’t... want to live... as a burden...”

“You’re not a burden.” Goku said.

Vegeta wasn’t convinced at all.

Goku scooped him up and carried him back to Capsule Corp. Bulma gave him an earful for doing something so reckless. Then, she broke into sobs and held her husband, begging him not to do anything like that again, begging him not to give up.

Vegeta’s body never fully recovered from his excursion of trying to fight Goku. He spent his days trying to distract himself from how isolated and useless he felt. His family would come see him in his room. Sometimes friends would come over as well, or call him when he felt up for it. Vegeta never adjusted to this new existence. He never got answers. Most days felt like a waste.

Whenever he felt like giving up, he remembered Kakarot’s words. That he was wanted. That he wasn’t a burden. Even though Vegeta didn’t believe those things were true, he cling to them. They were the only thing keeping him alive most of the time. There was no simple explanation. No diagnosis. No treatment. No cure. There was only those words. It was all he had.


	2. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: ableism, internalized ableism, self-loathing, disabling illness, graphic descriptions of pain, medical gaslighting, denial, lots of suicidal ideations, sex mention, let me know if you need anything else tagged 
> 
> So I had initially intended to include this in the first part of the story but ironically my real-life brain fog made me forget, so I added it as an epilogue.

“Kakarot, I need a favor.” Vegeta said. He hated how the words felt as they came out of his mouth.

“Yeah, what is it?” Goku asked. He was standing in one corner, having paced there. Goku was always so antsy when he came to visit Vegeta. He was never any good at sitting still, and seeing Vegeta unable to move seemed to make it worse.

“Use the Dragon Radar and bring me the Dragon Balls.”

“Huh? What do you want the Dragon Balls for?”

“What do you think?” Vegeta growled, slightly annoyed. “When my health began to deteriorate, the Dragon Balls had just been used, so we had to wait until they finished recharging. They’re ready now, and I want to use them to wish myself back to health.”

“Oh! Of course, that’s a great idea!” Goku beamed.

“Just...I don’t want Bulma to know.” He said. Goku frowned.

“How come?”

“Because,” he hesitated. “When we talked about this before, she told me that I shouldn’t get my hopes up. That it was possible the Dragon couldn’t help me.”

“Do you think she’s right?” Goku asked.

Vegeta hesitated. So many things had gone wrong. Nothing seemed to help. Nothing make him better. But the Dragon Balls were different. They were magic. They had to work.

They had to.

“They’ll work.” Vegeta said.

“Okay, I’ll be back soon.” Goku said with a grin. He put his fingers on his forehead and used instant transmission to leave.

In the meantime, Vegeta struggled out of bed and into his hoverchair. He told himself it would be the last time. Soon everything would be back to normal. He’d be the old Vegeta again, back to sparring with Kakarot and taking care of his family and making love to his wife and not feeling like a useless invalid all the damn time. Bulma had been telling him he needed to learn to accept himself, accept who he was with this illness. He couldn’t. He could never. It wasn’t acceptable. There were things he needed to be doing, he couldn’t spend his life lying around in a bed.

He navigated the chair outside to the balcony. In a minute or two, Goku had returned, with seven Dragon Balls in his arms. He lay them on the ground and called upon Shenron.

“What is your wish?” Shenron growled.

“I wish that this illness would be gone and my health restored.” Vegeta said.

It felt such a relief to say. Finally. It was over.

“Your wish cannot be granted.” Shenron said. Vegeta stared in confusion

“What—What do you mean? Why not?” He snarled. “I’m sick! Can’t you see? Now heal me!”

“Your illness is written into your DNA. It would be impossible to remove without killing you in the process.”

“My DNA?” Vegeta echoed. ‘ _But it’s just anxiety,_ ’ he thought bitterly. “You have to fix it! Surely there’s a loophole or something you can do!”

“I have answered your question. Make your next wish.” Shenron growled impatiently.

Vegeta growled, clenching his fists.

“No. There is no second wish. I need this! My family, my life, this can’t be it!” He was screaming now, even though doing so was making it hard to breathe, making his heart pound violently, making him dizzy.

“Vegeta, it’s okay,” Goku said softly.

“No! Dammit, it is not okay! My life has lost all meaning. I don’t want this. I can’t live like this anymore! I would rather die!”

“Vegeta!”

He turned to see his wife standing behind him, tears in her eyes.

“Bulma,” he said breathlessly.

She stepped forward.

“You can go, Shenron,” She said. Shenron’s massive form dispersed and vanished, and the Dragon Balls floated up in the air and shot off in different directions. She turned to Vegeta. “How can you say those things? That you don’t want to live anymore? Aren’t you thinking about me? About your kids?”

“Of course I am!” Vegeta said. His energy was running out on him fast, he was breathing heavily and barely able to support himself to sit upright to speak to her. “That’s all I’m thinking about. How can I continue on knowing that I serve no purpose? Knowing that I’m just this worthless burden to you and to the children, that Kakarot is going out of his way and can’t even stand to sit still when he comes to visit because he’d rather be anywhere else, how the hell can I keep on living when I know everyone would be better off without me?”

“Vegeta!” Bulma cried.

“We already told you we want you here. I want you here. I’m not any good at just visiting like this but I’m still here, aren’t I?” Goku said.

“That’s just it! You’re here because you pity me! It’s not like you get any sort of benefit from it. I waste your time and energy and for what? Absolutely nothing. You keep coming and asking me how I’m doing and the answer is always the damn same. Nothing changes. Nothing will ever change. And Bulma, if you had known that this would happen, would you still have let me stay? Would you still have married me? I provide nothing, I only make everyone else’s lives harder. There is no benefit to knowing me or being close to me. All it does is hurt you. I’m no better than someone like Frieza, I just hurt others and ruin everything and there’s no good side whatsoever,” Vegeta’s voice was breaking. He didn’t want to be saying this out loud but once he had opened his mouth it wouldn’t stop. “The worst part is I’m not even strong enough to get out of bed and take my own life just so you won’t have to suffer anymore.”

“Stop it!” Bulma screamed. Tears were flowing down her face. “You don’t get to decide that, you hear me? You don’t get to decide that you don’t matter and that you’re a burden and that we’d be better off without you! You are my husband and I love you! I want you here. I don’t care if you can protect me or help with the kids or any of that. I love you. You are the one I want here. I want to wake up every morning and see your face. I don’t care if that means you can’t walk or move or whatever because I care about you so damn much that it doesn’t matter.”

“How? How can you want to be around someone like this? I’m not even the person I was when you married me, I’m a shell.”

“No, you’re not. You’re a good and amazing person who is going through something I can’t even begin to imagine. But I want you here. I want you to stay. Please. The kids, too, they love you, they’d be totally lost without you.” Bulma was barely keeping it together.

“So would I,” Goku added. Vegeta looked at him in surprise. “Vegeta, you’re one of the strongest people I know. Not just in the fighting sense either. You’ve been though so much. I don’t even know how you do it. If I lost the ability to fight, I don’t know what I’d do. I don’t know who I would be. You’re not worthless, Vegeta. We wouldn’t be better off without you either. Every time I come see you, it motivates me to do more. Not even just fighting stuff. I’m spending more time with Chi Chi and my sons, I’m visiting friends more, I don’t know. There’s so many things in my life that are different now but if you weren’t here, I don’t know how I’d get by.”

Vegeta felt a knot in his stomach. He didn’t understand. How could they still want him? How could they say it wasn’t his fault? How could they forgive him for making everything so difficult?

“I need to lie down.” Was all he could say.

Bulma helped him back to the bed. From where he lay, he could see her talking to Goku for a moment. She cried more, then hugged him, then punched him. Goku laughed and gave her a reassuring pat on the arm before he left.

He rolled over. He was exhausted. His heart rate was slowing and now he just felt drained. He was half-asleep when he felt Bulma climb into bed beside him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and whispered against his ear.

“Please just hang on for me, Vegeta. Please.”

He pretended to be asleep.

(If you liked this story and want to know how to get one of your very own, check me out [here](https://chi-chi-mcroberts.tumblr.com/post/627008462566653952))


End file.
